Theory of Heat
by DraftsmanFive
Summary: A multi-dimensional AU following the adventures of the survivors following their escape from the Constant, and their counterparts whose stories has just begun.


**CHAPTER I: PRELUDE Part I**

In the Constant there were only fragments of time. Seasons and the daily cycle of the sun's rise and fall could be observed and felt, that much was true—but since the world did not weather and the survivors did not age, the meaning of the word meant very little to the them while they resided in that realm; so after spending an indeterminate amount of time there, it took them a great deal of familiarization and adjusting when they finally returned to their proper homes.

But all things considered, they were more than happy to return to an existence in which they could feel proper exhaustion and know that their actions truly had consequences. The Constant had nearly eliminated the idea of self-determination from their lives entirely, and so they hoped that as the days, months, and years passed that the survival game they barely escaped would someday fade into an abstract memory—nothing more than an unpleasant dream…

But those were only hopes and dreams.

It was a dark and dreary morning—an hour so betimes that even the most diligent murder of crows were yet to leave their nests. All the same, it was an urgent business that necessitated the married couple's diligence at that hour, and with the intent of woefully returning to such a cursed location no less. All pistons were firing in their minds, their spirits, and the Model T they were passengers inside, with every stray rock in their path threatening to overturn the vehicle and end them both. Perhaps that fate would have been preferable to whatever Wilson feared were about to subject themselves to, but Wendy was the only member of the group who humored such thoughts so he abandoned them as quickly as they came.

"You feeling alright, Percy?" Willow asked, addressing Wilson by his oft forgotten middle name.

"I'll feel better when we arrive. We might've been there by now if you knew any of the quicker routes there, and yet you insisted on driving anyway." Wilson grumbled.

"Uhh, yeah! Because you have a lame eye and would end up driving into a tree with how dark it is!" Willow gestured to the eye patch-covered scar on his right eye. "As if waiting an hour or two would've killed you. Nine years of marriage and you're no less headstrong than the day we met."

"Ten. Though the sun has yet to rise it is the day of our anniversary, technically; as well as the day we burned down the cabin as you can recall. And I understand—my sense of urgency is irksome, but the nightmare I had last night was far too…" He swallowed his words and licked his lips before thinking of a timid way to express his sentiments. "...Too real. It was unlike anything else I've experienced over the past decade, and you know I don't treat such occurrences lightly."

" _Sigh_...Wilson," Willow began, glancing at him just long enough to locate his hand and hold it in her own. "You should've told me those nightmares were getting worse, first off."

"I know."

"Also I'm not peeved, just concerned." She squeezed her grip. "We've been through a lot and I've never known you to act impulsively," Willow paused abruptly. "Well, this impulsively anyway. We'll get to the cabin and investigate whatever's left of it—together, Wilson." He smiled faintly. Although she couldn't see it, she knew that he felt at ease with her words, even if it was just a bit.

"Also, happy anniversary sweetheart." She chirped before giving him a peck on the check and continuing to drive with a tiny grin on her face too.

"Happy anniversary, dear." He felt that Willow's demeanor was one of her finer features—

"FUCK!" Willow exclaimed when they hit a bump that sent them more than a foot into the air. After frantically turning the wheel all directions to regain control after landing, the pair took a sigh of relief. "Goddamn, not even a whorish Beefalo in heat would be able to pick itself up after a fumble like that!"

And suddenly, Wilson was reminded of Willow's navy-like vulgarity and completely forgot whatever compliments he was ruminating. Another one of her "finer" features he would claim, but the frequency at which she swore did make his gentlemanly heart sink at times; never mind the fact she neglected to censor herself around the impressionable children they had in their lives for some time now. But it still brought him some amusement that his face betrayed to conceal, and it was such an ingrained part of her character and he refused for it to change…

...That early morning he found himself wishing that many things wouldn't change now that he finally had his life in order, but everything to come would be determined by the state of his old home—or rather, what remained left of it after so many years.

The sun was still dormant by the time they finally saw the hill his former residence once stood upon. He loathed the site and most the events that transpired there, but he had no choice but to return. For the most part he believed that he would never have to return to that place lest it were for some sort of reunion—but since it had already been ten years since all the escapees were gathered at one place at the same time, he was often doubtful. The tires of their Model T came to a screeching halt along with his thoughts, and Willow looked at Wilson as he meticulously and cautiously existed the passenger seat of their car.

"I hoped we'd never have to return to this weird chapter of our lives." Willow whispered.

"Shame on us for hoping." Wilson replied to his wife as they walked past the only surviving piece of the property. SCIENTIST AT WORK! DO NOT ENTER! were the words etched into the poorly aged sign. Kicking it over was the only form of solace he could get in those ruins, and with the only distraction reduced to splinters they began digging through soot and ashes under the illumination of Willow's lighter.

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

"The portal."

"Please don't tell me you're tryna return to the Constant." She murmured as she cautiously began digging through the house's remnants as well.

"Far from it. Recently I've been seeing visages of the shadow creatures that once stalked us, and I fear that through some means they have followed us here."

"As in shadow creatures, actually here? In the real world? And not just your nightmares?"

"Not just my nightmares, I'm afraid." Wilson repeated with a sigh of indignation as he looked directly at her, and lifted an eyepatch that covered his scarred right eye; or rather, the cavity that was instead in its place, still as empty as the day he returned to his proper world...But after raising his hand and delivering a quick snap, a black, viscous fluid poured out of the crevice, flowing as if it were a stream of tears. And out of thin air, several shadow creatures manifested around them in forms far ghastlier than they've ever seen prior, screeching and bellowing at such magnitudes that the noise reverberated in not only their bodies, but their souls as well.

Willow frantically waved her lighter around in an attempt to fend off the apparitions while her heartbeat escalated to an uncomfortably fast rhythm. Wilson, unprepared for that reaction but not surprised, hastily latched both his hands onto her shoulders and shook her slightly to get her attention. "It's okay Willow—Willow, look at me! I swear we are not in immediate danger!"

She looked back at him with feral eyes, but adopted his cool demeanor the longer she focused on his eyes and knew that everything was alright. Her breathing was still shaky, but less raggedy with every breath she took. With the lingering trauma of the Constant's remnants having finally left her, she focused solely on Wilson's condition. "Yikes, that looks like it hurts—Honey does it hurt?" Wilson solemnly shook his head no before scrunching his face and giving a slight nod yes. "Okay then, lemme think about what I want to say...Are you sure these are the same shadow creatures from the Constant? How long have you known about this, condition of yours...Are you...are you okay?" She whispered while squinting intensely. Wilson brought one of his hands from her hips to her face, and rubbed her cheek as he gave a meek smile.

"Physically, absolutely. Mentally, I do have my concerns. Hence this entire visit here." He gestured to the entire field of soot and rubble before dropping his arms back down. "As for your other two questions, I can't say for certain that I know the answer to either of them. You know that I've had issues with my right eye ever since it's been clawed out by Wortox back at the archipelago," he said while making a little claw motion with his hands. "But the leaking is a recent occurrence, as is the materialization of shadow creatures. And I can't ascertain if its coincidence or not, but I believe the two phenomena to be connected."

Wilson pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away at the nightmarish oil that seeped from his eye socket. Well, at best he was smearing it all over the right side of his face at best but once he was done cleaning the bulk of it, the shadow creatures began to fade away out of sight and subsequently out of mind. "My first thought was that they managed to enter our world through some sort of gateway, but it was all swagger and no substance. The portal I once built here hasn't been restored, so my nightmares might just be unfounded. Still," he slumped his body further into the ground and Willow followed suit, the pair blankly looking up at the field of stars above.

"Lemme guess, you're still worried that somehow, to some degree, the Watchers of the Constant are entering into our world?" Willow theorized dejectedly.

"...Yes. Just that."

"..." Willow scooted closer to Wilson, and held him with lover's embrace. "Don't worry Wilson. We'll figure this out and put an end to it, once and for all. But I hope you don't expect for us to do this alone." Willow stood up and Wilson unquestioningly followed her back to the vehicle. He raised a brow at her rummaging through his collection of items at the back of the car, but when she returned to the passenger seat with a Voxola radio in her lap, he understood just what her intentions were.

"No, Willow…You can't possibly suggest that we rally the rest of the survivors?" Willow didn't reply. She simply continued to fiddle with the Radio, finding the right frequency to make a connecting transmission. "Willow please, we can't drag them back into that life, not when we all sacrificed so much to escape the Constant all those years ago!" he begged.

"What other choice do we have!" She snapped back at him. "Our lives are in danger, our world is in danger, our fucking reality is in danger, Wilson! Escaping from the Constant felt like an impossible task for any of us to do on our own and it was. But together, we can make a difference just like we did back then. We just have to." Her eyes were misty, and at that moment she appeared more vulnerable than she had at any other point in her life.

"...I submit. I can't really argue with your reasoning, so I suppose it's time for a reunion." Wilson was handed the radio and adjusted all of the dials and knobs to the appropriate settings for broadcast. It was a useful modification that was once quintessential for the group's survival and eventual escape from the Constant, and now it was witnessing the return of that function with the Higgsbury's mission now clear. Wilson flipped one final switch, and with a soft hum of static signaling the connection of two radios, he spoke.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I spent a fair bit of time revising this yesterday and today. Any suggestions for revisions to or grammar changes to improve clarity will be considered, and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
